


Attentive

by Voido



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mementos, Minor Violence, One Braincell, Shadows - Freeform, TWO IDIOTS, i'll never be done with that, zio-affinity-bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: It was supposed to be a wake-up call, an incentive for at least one of them to get his act together and decide that their lives were quite a bit more important than a wounded, desperate kiss in the middle of an underworld battlefield. There was only one thing Akira hadn’t considered in this genius plan of his:Whenever he had a really stupid idea set in his mind, chances of Ryuji and him sharing the one same braincell were astronomically high.Like right now.“Can’t hear anythin’.”God, they were both idiots.





	Attentive

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe A-1 went and said "PegoRyu-rights!"?  
> I can't. But it still bit itself into my ass and ain't letting go. Time to feed this fandom with more....uhh..content! Yeah, plot-heavy content. Totally.
> 
> (For Mep, btw. You're the best, but also _insert suspicious Morgana emoji_

“Let’s go to Mementos, dude.”

There was nothing odd about the proposal itself, but for some reason, a faint hint of unease swung in Ryuji ’s voice, his eyes averted and hands restless on his sleeve. He was nervous, uncertain, and Akira couldn’t help tilting his head in confusion before ultimately agreeing.

“Sure, I’ll let everyone else know—”

“N-no!”

He stopped in his tracks, hand reaching for his phone, and raised an eyebrow. No? Why would he not let the rest of the Phantom Thieves know about a trip to Mementos? Only in specific, rare cases did he head into the place with less than the whole team, for the sake of safety and unanimity between all of them. After all, they had decided to always be on the same page.

On the other hand, it was just another form of training in the broader sense, and he  _ definitely _ spent generous amounts of time training with Ryuji specifically in the real world.

“No?”

“No, no, I mean…Just don’t wanna get rusty and all, y’know? Don’t gotta call everyone if we ain’t goin’ far, right?”

He didn ’t sound entirely sure of his own words, but Akira pretended to buy it anyway. If Ryuji was beating around the bush about going into Mementos, then there was a good reason for it, and whatever said reason was, as his best friend, Akira was definitely very interested in finding out.

“Sure, fine by me.”

Their train had just arrived in Shibuya anyway. The masses of people allowed them to not stick out, but it also meant there were higher chances of someone noticing the casual disappearance of two guys in the middle of the central station. They arrived in the Metaverse without any trouble, though, the gloomy atmosphere at the dark subway entrance engulfing them quickly. Akira always wondered if he was the only one feeling different about  _ himself _ down here, but never bothered asking. What he knew, though, was that it made him cockier, made him feel  _ powerful _ , and that was why it wasn ’t much of a surprise when he heard himself ask:

“So…training, huh?”

He indulged in Ryuji ’s caught expression, the way he fiddled with his kerchief and avoided eye contact. There was  _ definitely _ more to this than feeling  _ rusty _ . And Akira swore to himself he ’d find out what it was.

“Y-yeah? What’s wrong with that, man?”

“Nothing. Let’s go, then.”

Unsurprisingly, they  _ did _ train, and the first few areas weren ’t problematic at all, even though walking through Mementos on foot was still a bit odd. By the time they reached the first station they could use as a safe room, neither of them was even panting, although Akira still felt the sensation of a Zio that he’d failed to evade earlier. It didn’t even really hurt, simply left a prickling sensation under his skin. To be quite honest with himself…he didn’t entirely dislike the feeling.

He figured it was best to keep that to himself.

“You okay, dude?” There was worry, but also amusement in Ryuji’s voice as he walked over and pointed towards Akira’s head. “Your hair’s even fuzzier than usual. It’s a sight, y’know.”

A sight, he thought, was how Ryuji tried to hide the fact that he was concerned about that tiny hit that had barely scratched Akira, by attempting at a dumb joke about it. A pretty  _ cute _ sight, too. And because he couldn ’t just let that moment go, he leaned in a bit further, raised an eyebrow and said:

“Oh? Fix it then.”

The look he got in return was, at the very least,  _ priceless _ . A bunch of different emotions sped over Ryuji ’s face, including surprise, embarrassment and humor, before he went with annoyance and smacked Akira’s head lightly.

“Funny, man.”

“I aim to impress.”

Only when he ’d already finished the words did Akira notice something. A buzz. A soft sensation vibrating where Ryuji had hit him. It wasn’t really anything, but it also definitely wasn’t nothing. He knew that sometimes, everyone’s elemental affinities had impact on their bodies—it was pretty evident for Ann and Yusuke, who’s bodies would be flaming hot or icy cold upon touch respectively, but this was…very different, in a way he knew should make him feel bad, but in reality only caused excitement in him.

“Care to keep goin’?” Ryuji asked, wholly unaware of what he’d just done, or the impact it had caused. Akira nodded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to forget about it anytime soon.

The next time they took a break was on the platform leading from Aiyatsbus down to Chemdah, and not because that area felt incredibly safe. While they ’d only rarely ever met shadows on these platforms, Akira knew they weren’t safe from them here, but they both needed a minute after having been chased down by a handful of shadows on the previous area.

“Man, that was…somethin’.” Ryuji stated exhaustedly and dropped to the floor, a hand grabbing into his suit right between his lungs. “Thought we were…gonna get into some real trouble there.”

“Agreed.”

It hadn ’t been a life-threatening situation, but considering they needed to conserve enough energy to get out of here later, running had been the safest and probably smartest option. Being without the rest of the team also meant they only had each other to cover their backs, and one wrong step could get them into a lot of trouble.

And then there was still the fact that, for some reason, Akira ’s mind  _ really _ had a hard time not focusing on the sparky feeling hitting him earlier. He knew nothing good would come out of bringing it up — _ how _ would he even bring it up anyway, and for what reason? But that didn ’t change the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the tingling sensation under his skin, and the undeniable desire to feel it again.

“Okay, all good again.”

Ryuji got to his feet again, seemingly all fired up about going on. He grinned and nodded, so Akira nodded as well, unable to hide a tiny smile.

“Let’s go then.”

Something had changed, but he couldn ’t quite pin down what it was. All he knew was that they stayed closer to each other while moving on, making sure not to run into any large enemy groups. Exhaustion was still far from catching up with them, but at least now they finally felt the impact of their enemies’ strength, enough so that they actually used their next stay at a station to heal up and inspect potential wounds.

“How do you feel?” Akira asked cautiously, because if his eyes weren’t tricking him, Ryuji was squinting a bit too hard to still be okay. Being the way he was, though, he simply signaled refusal with one hand, as if it was nothing, but explained nonetheless:

“Think I hit my head somewhere. Nothin’ bad though, I can totally go on.”

“Let me see.”

He rolled his eyes, but knew better than to deny it. If the whole team knew anything, then that Akira got quite bossy regarding everyone ’s integrity and safety. It felt a bit stupid how they were sitting on the floor legs crossed instead of using the seats that were pretty much  _ right there _ , but he didn ’t feel like getting up either, and simply moved a bit closer, turned Ryuji’s face away with one gloved finger, and ran his other hand through the clearly darkening streaks of bright blond hair, red blood against red fabric.

“Bleeding,” he deducted shortly, unable to hide a little bit of disappointment over the blatant lie. “Looks a bit bad to me.”

“Hardly even feel it, man. Come on, just hit me with a Dia and it’s fine.”

He considered. To be fair, it wasn ’t a gaping wound, hardly more than a bleeding scratch, and while he didn’t entirely like the concept of treating wounds with a cure-spell and pretending it hadn’t happened, he figured that it would be enough for now, and that tiny wounds were hardly avoidable anyway. So far, they were doing pretty well, actually.

“Alright. We’ll take a break, though.”

“Aren’t we already doin’ that, dude?”

He hummed agreement, then cast a Diarama, just to make sure, and watched the wound close when the spell hit. Logically, this was the moment where he should let go, but something caused him to keep holding on. This was almost too close to be casual, and part of him wondered if only he felt that way.

Of course, he figured then. If Ryuji saw this as anything other than unhealthy amounts of worry, he ’d comment on that, instead of leaning closer as if attempting to nap.

“Why did you want to come here today?” Akira decided to try again, busying his hand by running it through sticky hair. “I know there was more to it than simply training, and _you_ know I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“Ugh, ‘s embarrassin’ tho.”

His movement came to a halt, only for long enough to get his skeptical frown in position.

“Now you have to tell me.”

Ryuji shook his head and fought out of the touch to get up, but reached out to help him to his feet as well. Their hands lingered for a moment, a tight grip confirming how they were both, somehow, holding onto each other. As if that was way more convincing than the words, Ryuji sighed and gave in, albeit without trying to hide how flustered he was about his intentions.

“Ain’t a crime to wanna spend time, is it now?” And then, upon realizing that wanting to spend time was not enough of a reason to come here, he specified: “Out there you always know people. Someone gets in the way, y’know? Even if it’s just a friend. God, I dunno, dude.”

From the sound of it, he  _ really _ didn ’t know—however, Akira got a feeling that he himself definitely did start understanding it. All of it, from the embarrassment to the extreme of going to a place like Mementos just to get as far away as possible from any other people, screamed  _ jealousy _ so loudly he could ’ve sworn he heard it ringing in his ears, and to be quite honest, it filled him with an intense amount of pride and energy.

This was most likely something he should keep to himself, since Ryuji had already mentioned that it was, quote unquote  _ embarrassing _ , but this was the Metaverse and that did mean Akira experienced gracious amounts of confidence and downright poise. So of course he didn ’t keep it to himself, and instead leaned in a bit further to say:

“If it was all about having me to yourself, you could have just said so, Skull.”

His confession had been rewarding enough, but it was nothing in comparison to the flush of color rising to his cheeks, how he opened his mouth to contradict the reproach, then closed it wordlessly because there simply was no denying the truth of it. Even so, Akira knew when to stop pushing it, so he simply nodded with a smile, as if he ’d ever gotten an answer to that, and decided that, just maybe, pushing on a little further down Mementos wouldn’t be too bad. After all, he’d learned quite a bit today, and he was definitely down to make it even more.

The only problem with this idea was that now he wasn ’t the only one distracted by things unrelated to battle, and it showed in their fights; their attacks were still synced, baton passes as powerful as ever, and enemies at their mercy more often than not. Still, the touches lingered, the looks on each other after getting hit turned more worried even if not necessary, and in general, they ran into more battles than theoretically necessary—pointless ones that they couldn’t really use to improve, but simply drained their time and energy.

When they headed towards the next platform, it wasn ’t much of a surprise that they leaned on each other while listening to the quiet hum of the escalator getting them down there. Akira kept his eyes closed, forehead leaning against Ryuji’s cheek, listening to his deep, rhythmic breaths, mind still occupied by the whole jealousy-thing. He felt the sparks again, tiny sensations prickling from Ryuji’s skin over to his own, driving him absolutely insane. He knew better than to say it out loud, but he  _ really _ wanted to know if a kiss would have a similar effect.

Having questionable feelings about your best friend ’s dangerous, supernatural affinity? Odd, in a way, but definitely still acceptable.

Voicing these out loud, undoubtedly making same best friend uncomfortable and breaching a wall between them? Definitely a step too far.

…

Right?

Then again, how was he supposed to find out if he didn ’t even try…?

“You okay there, man?”

After a soft, surprised  _ “huh?” _ , he blinked rapidly, lifted his head and nodded, trying to find the implication of having done something wrong or awkward anywhere in Ryuji ’s expression; it wasn’t there, but he  _ did _ look concerned, eyes searching for the reason for whatever face Akira must ’ve made before.

“I’m fine,” he assured, straightened his posture and walked down the last few steps of the escalator, but stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand on his wrist, preventing him from continuing on. This action wasn’t helping much with his conflicting feelings, with his odd ideas, and _god_ , there was the stupid feeling of electric vibes dancing between them, and every single time, it made Akira lose a tiny scratch more of both his decency and pride.

“I never noticed it before,” he explained shortly, well aware that those words alone were nothing short of plotless, but unable to focus enough on his thoughts to elaborate on it. He cast a look down to their hands, bright yellow clashing with red, and he couldn’t help pulling his wrist out of the grip, only to take the chance and quickly intertwine their fingers. It helped him calm down where he hadn’t even known he was nervous, and when the movement wasn’t questioned even after a solid few seconds had passed, he released the breath he’d subconsciously been holding.

“Ya gonna start makin’ sense soon, or…?” Ryuji asked eventually, not trying to hide a hint of embarrassment from his voice, and frowning down on their hands as if he didn’t understand while they were holding each other’s. Even so, he didn’t attempt to pull away, and he was _definitely_ squeezing as well, which, for some reason, clouded Akira’s mind even more.

He considered putting it in words —how their touch tingled on both body and mind, how much it distracted him, that he was more than interested in getting even closer. Instead, though, he figured that words didn ’t cover his feelings anyway, and that there was no point trying to explain something he didn’t even entirely understand himself. With a boost in confidence he couldn’t trace to its source, he looked up, attempted at a smile when Ryuji did the same, and shut down his brain in favor of leaning in to press their lips together. 

It was foreign, a bit too hasty, and the surprised gasp he got in return almost caused Akira to pull back, but then it was returned, shaking lips shyly brushing his, and exactly as he had expected, had  _ hoped _ , the prickling sensation returned, sparks seeping into his body like liquid, rendering him unable to think. All the pressure from before seemed to fall off of him, the uncertainty of something being unsaid, undone, and it was liberating on whole new levels, and —

“D-dude.”

They parted, and that was the moment everything kicked back in; the fact that they were inside a supernatural, cognitive subway, surrounded by actual monsters out to kill them, with otherworldly abilities themselves, feeling the exhaustion from the hours of fighting and the tension from still being in the midst of it all. It put the whole situation back into perspective, made Akira remember that this was most likely not the ideal place to realize you  _ really _ want to make out with your best friend.

And the worst part about it?

They were still close enough to feel each other ’s breath, still staring, waiting for an answer that neither of them had, still holding hands, still not attempting to get a move on. The little room between them was as fragile as glass, and not even Akira dared risk breaking it, so instead of using words, he nodded into the direction of the escalator further down, never tearing his eyes away, and swallowed hard when Ryuji slowly nodded and turned to walk ahead. His grip loosened, and for a split second, Akira considered not letting him go, demanding the touch and refusing to break this physical bond between them.

Then he realized how excessive that was, and that he definitely did  _ not _ want to risk there being any bad blood between them —not ever, but especially not when they were in such a dangerous place, let alone without the support of their team members, both confused and moving on without any good reason to. So he let go, of Ryuji ’s hand, of the moment, of the desire to pull closer rather than away, and took a deep breath in order to regain his composure.

Just a little further.

Somehow,  _ a little further _ turned into  _ a lot further _ without them exchanging a single word. They stopped on the platform between Chemdah and Kaitul only to make sure they were both able to go on, Akira insisting to heal a wound on Ryuji ’s forehead, Ryuji squinting extra hard when Akira claimed to not have taken any hard hits himself. Without mentioning the previous incident with a single word, without even discussing their options verbally or physically, they both moved on. The fact that Akira had  _ never _ been this far down with only one member of the team crept up in his mind, poked him like an alarm and tried to remind him that they should, at some point, head back up as long as they still had the energy to, but fighting distracted him, eased his mind and rendered him unable to think about what was going on.

Fighting was good. Fighting was liberating, easy and practical.

Until it was not.

It wasn ’t liberating when they were surrounded by an enemy, all because Akira had been busy considering turning around and ordering their leave. It wasn’t easy when hits rained down on them with the force of a tempest, hardly giving them a moment to fight back, let alone breathe. It wasn’t practical when the masses of shadows separated them far enough from each other that they basically had to fight on their own instead of together.

Fighting wasn ’t good.

But when Akira defeated the last shadow in his sight with an Eigaon spell and took a long breath, he felt a sort of satisfaction he couldn ’t quite pin down. A few meters away, he saw Ryuji lying flat on his back, but his thumb raised up as if saying  _ “we got this, man”. _ He seemed pleased with his success as well, if the peaceful smile on his face and his closed eyes were anything to go by. Akira took the last few steps over to him and reached out, an offer to help him up. They still hadn ’t said a word to each other, and he wasn’t sure what to say now, between heavy breaths and the adrenaline decreasing, making way for the same cautious anxiety he’d felt for quite a while now.

“The hell’s wrong with ya, dude?” Ryuji then asked out of nowhere, opened an eye and stared at the hand reaching out for him, without even a sign of him accepting the offer. “Ain’t ya got some sorta sixth sense to see those things beforehand?”

It wasn ’t an accusation, but it sure stung like one, and it wasn’t wrong, either. There was no denying Akira had let their whole situation get the best of him, clouding his mind with crazy ideas, worries and the desire to keep moving, even where he’d normally know they shouldn’t. He wasn’t sure how to put it in words, but tried nonetheless.

“I’ve been…thinking. I’m sorry, I let all of this get to me, and—”

“All of…what? Oh.”

_ Oh _ indeed.

When he finally felt stupid reaching out, and attempted to draw back his hand, Ryuji grabbed it after all, but instead of trying to stand up, pulled Akira to the floor as well, landing him on his knees. His mind wasn ’t sure if he was glad about the bodily contact, or confused about the sudden reaction, or legitimately scared because they were now actually sitting in the middle of enemy territory, and upon closing his eyes to concentrate, Akira felt the presence of more shadows somewhere around the area, albeit not too close to them. Still, they shouldn’t take the risk of another encounter, especially not before generously making sure that neither of them was seriously hurt.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Akira deadpanned, finally back in control of his mind, at least partly so. His rational side was doing a bit better now, fighting with all the ridiculous and foolish ideas in his head. “Let’s keep going.”

Despite his words, though, he didn ’t do much to move—didn’t get up, didn’t physically urge Ryuji to do so. Instead, he tried not to think about the fact that their knees were touching and their hands, seemingly without either of them intending to, reaching out for each others. Jokes on him, really, because that was all he  _ could _ think about.

“Yeah, sure.”

Neither of them moved, a clear indicator that they were both frozen in place, mesmerized by something they couldn ’t quite pin down, forced to stay not only right were they were, but as close to each other as possible—even closer than now, if they could, if the way they both leaned in to press their foreheads together suggested anything.

“You kissed me,” Ryuji suddenly deadpanned, then immediately turned red and frowned about his own directness. Akira nodded simply, not sure if it was a statement he was supposed to answer to. A tiny, evil part of his mind claimed he should, maybe, apologize; then again, he wasn’t sorry, and if not strictly necessary, he saw no reason to lie about something like this.

“I did,” he admitted finally, and ignored the fact that he definitely wanted to do it again—right now, if anyhow possible. He prepared himself for anger, disappointed, and a whole other lot of negative emotions about his bold move, or maybe even a simple nod and the incentive to finally get up and out of enemy territory.

“Well.” There was a hint of uncertainty, shyness in Ryuji’s voice. He tried to play it cool, but still turned a charming shade of pink, and almost hastily demanded: “Do…do it again.”

Oh. Wow.

Okay then.

Initially, Akira wanted to reply something cocky before giving it —something to unload his bloating ego again, make a show and, quite frankly, hide the fact that he was caught off guard by those words. Because of this exact fact though, the words got stuck in his throat, and he seemingly forgot how to talk in the first place. It was a bit embarrassing, but he didn ’t give himself much time to think about it before nodding, tilting his head and obeying the pleading order.

The moment their lips met, he felt a whole lot of things: Pleasure and satisfaction for one. Desire as well, the wish to stay like this forever no matter the odds. It was warm, genuine, soft, both literal and metaphorical sparks dancing between them and claiming his attention.

But there was more.

And said  _ more _ , he felt after ignoring it for a quite generously long while, was the incoming presence of the shadow he ’d been feeling somewhere far away in the area only minutes ago. It was closing in on them, and fast, caused excitement to mix with fear. Akira wasn’t proud of it, all things considered, but although he knew they should get up,  _ had _ to get up if they didn ’t want to risk getting ambushed…he had absolutely no desire to do so, no power to actually break the kiss.

Instead, he whispered into it, shivering at how their lips brushed together.

“There’s a shadow…”

It was supposed to be a wake-up call, an incentive for at least one of them to get his act together and decide that their lives were quite a bit more important than a wounded, desperate kiss in the middle of an underworld battlefield. There was only one thing Akira hadn ’t considered in this genius plan of his:

Whenever he had a really stupid idea set in his mind, chances of Ryuji and him sharing the one same braincell were astronomically high.

Like right now.

“Can’t hear anythin’.”

God, they were both idiots.

“It’s…”

Taking a deep breath, Akira tried to locate the shadow. It was closing in, but not near enough to hear, let alone see them. And because this whole concept of them being here wasn ’t dumb enough on its own, he allowed his brain to come up with some more shit.

_ Maybe _ , he thought generously.  _ It won _ _ ’t even find us. _

He definitely had a problem. If said problem was his inability to make rational decisions unless assisted by someone more level-headed than himself —like Makoto or Futaba—or the awkward fear of erasing whatever mood there was currently between them in case they got up …he didn’t know. In fact, he didn’t even  _ want _ to know, especially since they were still in the same position, lips motionlessly resting against each other ’s, waiting for a sound, a move, a decision.

“It’s pretty far away,” he deducted eventually, so quiet that he barely heard his own voice. _Pretty far_ was a bendable term in this case, really, but he didn’t want to waste time explaining exactly how far away it was. 

“Y-yeah. Okay.”

So because they both seemingly hadn ’t taken enough of a beating yet, they risked even more, stayed right were they were, kissed with as much passion as desperation to it, and didn’t part before the shadow was so close that Akira felt it quite literally  _ right around the corner _ . Unsurprisingly, it spotted them in the same second he came to his senses, just when he grabbed Ryuji ’s kerchief and tore on, partly because it was tempting, the bright red melting exactly into the same shade of his own gloves, but primarily because that was enough to convey the message:

_ We really need to go. _

Half a second later, Akira was on his feet, thankful that his mind shut out the lingering ache of the previous battle, grabbed Ryuji ’s hand and pulled him along in the direction far away from the shadow. Apparently, they were as lucky as they were stupid, because they managed to outrun the creature and find the platform without crashing into any dead ends. 

“Ain’t got…no clue…how we…ain’t dead,” Ryuji panted, dropped onto the floor and took deep, heavy breaths. In comparison to earlier, he seemed to be in a better mood, as if some sort of burden had been taken from him. It was almost as if he’d intended for something like this. But that couldn’t be, could it now?

“We’re definitely dead if anyone finds out about this,” Akira stated monotonously, although having to hide a hint of amusement and poise from the words. “Worth it, though.”

He slid down against the wall as well, ran a hand through his hair and stretched his sore legs. Now that they had a chance to breathe, he realized how beat he was, how exhaustion was tearing on his conscious and tempting him to fall asleep. Not that he would let himself, at least not before a thorough check of both their physical conditions, and a thought-through plan on how they ’d eventually get out of here without any more inconveniences.

“We could stop makin’ out on the tracks,” Ryuji suggested helpfully, a grin spreading on his face and his eyes closing blissfully as Akira cast a spell to close a wound on his chin. Tapping a finger against his forehead, Ryuji continued: “I’m actually a genius, dude.”

Akira nodded in agreement.

“Definitely award-winning.” And then, after a moment of consideration, added: “You were right—this sure was some kind of training. Not what I initially expected, but…I’m not going to complain.”

They both grinned, rested their shoulders against each other ’s and dozed off, entirely undisturbed by the eerie atmosphere and the sound of unreal trains passing by. There were quite a few questions waiting to be answered, and they both knew that the path back up to the real world would give them more than enough time to tackle all of them, alongside the realization of just how stupid it had been to go this far in the first place.

Unsurprisingly, they couldn ’t entirely evade their team’s suspicions once they finally returned to the real Shibuya and checked their phones. Apparently, whenever neither of them answered for longer than a set amount of time, it meant  _ “trouble” _ .

“They got a point,” Ryuji admitted, scratching his neck and frowning, but still grinning through it.

“You know,” Akira realized, considering everything that had happened inside Mementos in those few hours, and looking down to where their arms were _super casually_ touching. “I can live with that.”

They laughed, carefree like the two idiots they undoubtedly were.

He could  _ definitely _ live with that.


End file.
